SRT10 and the cost of perfection

Right out of the Textbook.

Let me start by saying that no combination of the 26 letters of the English language can in any way do justice to how I feel about Sachin. But here are a few of my thoughts after Sachin retired from ODIs.

The date 15th November, 1989 is the date which changed the international cricketing landscape. A 16-year old teenager strolled in to face one of the most fearsome bowling attacks in the world in their own backyard, and surprisingly held his own. The 23 odd years from that day, rarely (if ever) has Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar been an underdog in any contest. On that particular tour he was the quintessential new ‘boy’, but he took to international cricket like a duck to water. In an exhibition match on the same tour he smashed 27 off an over of erstwhile Pakistani spin king Abdul Qadir, and it reaffirmed to the Indian selectors that they had a precocious talent in their hands. And mind you, he was just sixteen.

The boy never got to grow up, but was just thrust into the public spotlight as a beacon of hope, as Indian cricket struggled through its period of transition. Pre 1992-93, and he established himself as one of the integral parts of the Indian team. Post 1992-93 to 2000, he became the official flag bearer of the Indian cause. India became Sachin and Sachin became India. He almost became synonymous with everything successful in India.

When Sir Donald Bradman confirmed in 1999 that he saw shades of himself in Sachin, it merely confirmed what the cricketing fraternity had already known. They were watching cricketing history in the making. When other sport persons from various disciplines struggled to make any sort of a tangible impact, Sachin began on a journey to break every possible record there was. He made run-making almost an art form. The inhuman amounts of expectations were carried in a matter-of-fact manner. And while young stars like his own friend Vinod Kambli fell by the wayside, he was on a one man mission to keep Indian cricket competitive. The way he carried himself in public and the dignity with which he behaved on and off the field were a credit to him as well as the country. Asking a person ‘What’s India’s score?’ on the radio was replaced by ‘Is Sachin still batting?’, as even the least knowledgeable cricket fan knew that India chasing a win without Sachin at the crease was an exercise in futility.

Every Sachin failure was scrutinized to such an extent that it almost seemed like a national tragedy. But the strange part was that Sachin remained unaffected amongst all this hullabaloo. He took everything in his stride and marched on. The early part of the 2000s were particularly unkind to him, as he suffered from recurring injuries to his back. But he rose like a phoenix from the ashes and won the Man of the Tournament at the 2003 World Cup. By this time there were a lot of people to take the collective load off his shoulders, the likes of Sehwag, Ganguly, Dravid. But it still was Sachin whose every movement was under the microscope.

That high was followed by the excruciating low of the tennis elbow, where some people even doubted his ability to come back to the international scene. But Sachin did what he had always done; he let the barking dogs lie. And he let his bat do all the talking. Even after all the trials and tribulations he played his sixth consecutive World Cup in the sub-continent and played a pivotal role in India winning it.

Of late, increasing amount of column inches and prime-time footage was devoted to Sachin’s form (or the lack of thereof) by some cricket pundits who hadn’t even played the international game, or were at best mediocre international players. If ever there was a person who deserved the unwavering support of the Board and his peers, it was this man. Sachin Tendulkar was a gift to Indian cricket that kept on giving; sometimes I felt that India didn’t deserve Sachin. Every innings he didn’t score heavy, a sense of dread filled the heart that the end was near. And sure enough it came; we will never see him in the blue of India again.

I will end my piece with my favorite Sachin quote by the late commentator Tony Grieg:

“There’s Tendulkar, then there is daylight, then there is the rest!”